Better Together
by Annarita
Summary: Basically, yet another spin on what should have happened at the end of The Four Percent Solution. This can stand alone on its own, but I do make one brief reference to "Perfectly Imperfect." There are four chapters total to this one.
1. Chapter 1

**Better Together**

Disclaimer: One again, not mine.  
All typos are mine and mine alone.

Summary: Basically, yet another spin on what should have happened at the end of The Four Percent Solution. This can stand alone on its own, but I do make one brief reference to "Perfectly Imperfect." There are four chapters total to this one.

* * *

I blink a few times as I try to become aware of my surroundings. Something isn't quite right and I feel like I've been hit by a semi- truck. My entire body aches and slowly I reach my left hand out, trying to reach for something - anything that can give me a clue. When I reach out, I come into contact with the cool metal rail of the hospital bed.

Slowly, last night's events come back to me. I was in a car accident and my car was totaled. That much I can remember, but the rest is still a bit fuzzy.

Actually, I must have hit my head pretty hard during the accident because I think I had a hallucination that Harm was here last night. I close my eyes and replay the hallucination in my mind.

* * *

" _I've been pushing you away," I said._

" _Yeah, you have," he replied, his emotions even and in check._

 _I sigh, thinking about all the pain I caused him. "I'm sorry."_

" _It's okay," he whispers. "You had to, uh, figure some things out. I understand."_

 _How can the man be so understanding? After everything I put him through? And I'm not just talking about how I handled my diagnosis…this goes back to Webb and Paraguay, too._

 _Then he surprised me by leaning closer to me and taking my hand in his. "Look, Mac," he begins as he traces his thumb over my hand. "Nothing's changed. I'm still here. Let's just enjoy the good news – be happy. You're alive," he said with so much emotion._

" _You know what makes that news better? We both are."_

 _And then I saw it…a glimmer of hope in his eyes, as I squeezed his hand._

* * *

But it was only a hallucination…or a dream or whatever you want to call it. I've pushed him away so many times recently; I'm sure he's moved on.

By now there is dull ache throbbing through my forehead, I keep my eyes closed, and I go to pick up my right hand up so I can rub it away.

My hand is heavy, and I can't seem to move it. I gasp – what exactly were my injuries again?

When I work up enough courage to open my eyes, I see Harm's blue-green eyes staring back at me. "Are you okay, Mac? What's wrong? Should I get a doctor? Are you in pain?" He keeps rattling off questions before I have a chance to answer any of them.

I realize he is holding my hand, that's why I couldn't move it.

How did I not realize he was here before?

"No," I finally manage to speak, my voice hoarse. "I'm okay; I just, uh, didn't realize you were here."

"Hey," he says softly. "I told you last night that nothing changed. I'm still here and I promised you I was staying here all night with you."

"Wait…you were really here last night?"

"Of course I was. Mac, are you sure you are alright? You're scaring me."

"I'm okay. I just thought I dreamt that conversation or something. I've been so distant with you lately that I didn't think it possibly could have happened."

He's quiet for a moment, and I can pick up all the cues. I know that he is gathering his thoughts. "We have a lot to talk about, and we will," he assures me. "But right now, just focus on resting. You'll probably be released in a couple hours and we talk then. Okay?"

"Okay," I agree as I close my eyes and find comfort in the lazy circular patterns is thumb is tracing over my hand before I fall asleep.

I wake up at 0823 to a doctor entering my room. It's the same doctor from last night. He tells me that he's going to do a quick examination, and if everything is good, he'll release me at 0900.

Harm takes that as his cue to step out for a few minutes.

The doctor gave me the okay to be released, and Harm is back in my room at 0843 carrying a bouquet of roses and a gift box wrapped in holiday wrapping paper.

I raise an eyebrow, which proves to be painful because of the bruises, so I end up wincing before I speak. "Where'd you manage to find all that in a hospital on Christmas morning?"

"Actually," he's sheepish at first. "I bought the flowers on my lunch break yesterday and I had your gift for a long time. I was planning on bringing them to you after the trip to the Wall, and I figured maybe we could spend Christmas Eve together. But, since you had to go and smash your car last night," he attempts to lighten the mood, "It looks like you're going to be stuck with me today instead."

He places the roses on the table and I admire their beauty. They held up very well over night, probably because it was so cold. Then, he hands me the gift box.

"I didn't have time to go back to your place and grab you a change of clothes, so I thought maybe you'd want to open this now instead of later."

Intrigued, I open the box. "I love them!" I exclaim as I pull out the pair of fleece Christmas pajamas from the box. They are Marine green in color with little Christmas trees and reindeer on them.

He seems so relieved. "Now, I know they aren't exactly like the cowboy pair I caught you in a few years ago, but still. They were just as cute and they made me think of you as soon as I saw them."

Harm thinks my pajamas are cute? He thinks of _me_ when he sees pajamas? I'm giddy inside! I feel like a teenager girl who has her first crush or something. "Help me up, Sailor, so I can go change," grateful that it is a button down top and I shouldn't need any assistance getting into it.

"Yes, ma'am," he obliges while carefully taking my hands in his and gently lifting me up. "Are you okay?"

I feel like that's the hundredth time he asked me this morning. "I'm okay," I assure him as I slowly make way to the bathroom to change.

Once I get in the bathroom, I remember that this damn hospital gown ties in the back at the neck and I can't lift my arms enough to untie it without causing excruciating pain. "Uh, Harm?" I call out.

"What is it, Mac?" He asks without even missing a beat.

"I need some help…"

"Is it okay to open the door?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Slowly, timidly, he opens the door. "What's wrong?"

"I can't reach to untie the strings behind my neck. It hurts too much."

He seems relived that it isn't anything serious. "I can certainly help with that."

He loosens the tie and his fingers feel so nice against my skin. I sigh contently before I can stop it. I know he heard and he makes no effort to pull away quickly. Instead, he uses both his hands to massage the tense muscles near my neck.

"Does this hurt?"

"No," I moan, happily. "It's great." I know that must have done wonders for his ego right about now. I can sense his smile without even seeing it. We stood there for two minutes and thirty six seconds before he stopped. "Oh, does it have to end?" I ask, I try to pass it off as a teasing tone, but I am truly disappointed with the lack of contact.

"I see more of those in your future, Mac," he tosses over his shoulder before he leaves the bathroom so I can finish changing.

* * *

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Better Together – Chapter 2**

* * *

The return trip to my apartment was, luckily, I suppose, uneventful. Yet for as uneventful as it was, it really makes me feel so conflicted.

Harm said he'd start a fire and make us a light meal, so I went to take a nice long hot shower. I feel gross and sore from the accident, and I hope it will help me feel a little bit more relaxed and help me clear my head.

My brain is working double time as the hot water caresses my body. I think of the past nine years I've spent with Harm in my life. We are still dancing around this relationship, the same song, same dance, for years. I can't even pinpoint a specific time or place when the dance began. It's almost if we were always at that awkward place of more than friends, but definitely less than lovers – ever since I granted him "permission to come aboard" that very first time we worked together.

The problem is, and always has been, that we are never on the same page at the same time.

I feel like Harm and I are at a turning point right now, although. I want to stop pushing him away; I want to let him in. However, there is still this voice in my head that says he is _only_ around because of our deal, and if I can't carry out my end of the deal, he needs to be with someone else…someone who can give him a family.

Oh my God. Why is everything so damn confusing? One minute, I'm ready to throw caution to the wind, jump in with both feet and tell him I want to share a life with him, and then the next moment, I'm peddling backwards because I think he should be with someone who can give him the family he deserves.

 _Perfectly imperfect._

The words pop into my head out of the blue and remind of the day we took AJ to the pumpkin patch. It was the day I came to the conclusion that I had to "let go" of Harm. It was also the night my insomnia got even worse than usual and just a few days before I had that visit with Commander McCool.

" _Do you believe he will ever abandon you?"_ Her words echo in my mind.

No, I don't think he will, and if I think that, why am I so intent on pushing him away because I think that he can do so much better than me?

Could we be perfectly imperfect together – For each other?

All those years ago, I told Harm he had to let go, but now it's me who has to let ago. Before I met with Commander McCool, I would have said I had to let go of Harm, now, however, I am wondering if I have to let go of my insecurities instead.

" _What's been keeping you apart?"  
"Me. Him."_

I sigh as I step out of the shower, I was hoping it would help my clear my head, but I am just as confused as I had been.

I am beginning the think I am the one who is making simple things complicated, now.

I dry off as quickly as I can manage and rub on some vanilla scented lotion, before I slip the pajamas that Harm gave me back on. For a moment, I thought about putting on actual clothes or maybe a pair of sweats, but I decide to go with the pajamas because I have a feeling it would mean a lot to him.

I take a deep breath before exiting the bathroom, and heading towards the kitchen to find Harm. I'm glad that I opted for the pajamas because when I find him, he in a pair of pajamas, too. He's wearing a pair of navy blue plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt with "NAVY" stamped across the front.

"Are those Navy issued pajamas?" I offer with a small smile as I sit down at the barstool.

He grins and finishes ladling soup into a bowl before sliding it across to me. "Looks like we're having a pajama party today," he teases. "Yours are still cuter."

My eyes follow his movements as he goes to pour himself a cup of coffee - more specifically, they focus on his six. "You're cute, too," slips out before my brain can even filter what I was about to say. "You're pajamas," I tack on quickly.

He chuckles as he returns to his spot across from me at the island with his mug of coffee in hand. "Then it looks like I know what to get you for your birthday, Marine."

"Funny, funny." I take a few bites of soup, and I notice that he is staring at me. "Did I spill?" I ask, confused – it's hard to feel my face, and I take a quick glance to see if I spilled anything on my top.

"No, no, it's not that."

"Then why are you looking at me that way? What do you see?"

His eyes focus on mine. "I still see a desirable woman."

There's a long silence that follows, but it isn't awkward at all. If anything it is comfortable and soothing. For a moment, my mind travels back to the first time he said that to me. It feels like a lifetime ago. In some ways we didn't change, in other ways, we are completely different people.

"Look, Mac…"  
"Harm, we…"

We both begin at the same time, and then stop. We're both a little flustered now.

"You first," I encourage, gently.

He's serious and focused – it is the same way he gets when he's about to argue a case in court. "I think we need to talk about us."

"That's what I was going to say," I all but whisper.

Could we finally be on the same page, same line, and same sentence at the same time?

If we are, it might be a Christmas miracle after all.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Better Together – Chapter 3  
**

* * *

He's looking at me intently, as he takes a long sip of coffee and then slides the mug away. "We need to establish some "rules of engagement" first."

I can tell he is a man on a mission, and I follow his lead by sliding away my bowl of soup. "Such as?"

"We are completely, one hundred and ten percent honest with each other, we agree to hear each other out, and no matter how ugly it may get we _do not_ walk away from each other until we come up with an appropriate resolution to whatever "this" is," he finishes as gestures to the space between us.

I can only nod – afraid that my voice won't even work. My heart is pounding in my chest, my palms are sweating, and I almost feel dizzy. I don't feel like a Marine, I don't feel like a lawyer. I feel vulnerable – potentially my whole entire future is hanging in the balance and it terrifies me and excites me all the same.

"I meant what I said before," he begins. "I am tired of looking in on your life as an observer. I want to be a part of your life. I want to share in your happiness and sorrows, I want to eat dinner with you every day, I want to take long weekend drives with you just to get away every once in a while. I want you to be there in the morning when I wake up, and at night when I go to sleep."

"Harm…" He puts his hand up signaling he isn't finished, and I let him continue.

"I had my world stop once before on Christmas Eve….and when I got that phone call that you were in accident, my world stopped again. Nothing mattered to me besides getting to where you were."

These are the words I wanted to hear for so long, had they come eighteen months ago, I would have jumped into his arms and agreed that I wanted all the same things he did. However, this is happening now. Things are different now.

I do love him, but Paraguay, Webb, Sadik, the endometriosis, the PTSD, all tainted me and turned me into this cynical person who believes that happiness doesn't exist. That everything comes crumbling down no matter what. Even if happiness did exist, I wouldn't deserve it anyway.

"How can you say all those things?" I finally ask, hoping the trembling in my voice is just in my imagination and that he can't pick up on it. "After all that I did to push you away and keep you at arm's length, how can you still feel like that?"

"Because I know in my heart we are meant to be."

"I can't give you what you want, Harm, what you deserve," I manage, hoping he knows what I mean.

"Jesus, Mac, it doesn't matter how it happens…as long as it happens with you."

"You don't have to hang around just because you made a promise and you want to keep it. You're handsome, successful, accomplished; you can still find a woman who can give you the family you deserve. _You_ still have time."

"The only family that matters to me is the one you and I have together." He leans forward and braces himself against the countertop.

I cross my arms. "You're a noble man, Harmon Rabb," I say before even have a chance to think about what I am saying and the tone in my voice.

He looks hurt and confused for a minute. "Do you think I only want to be with you because of our deal, Mac? Because all I want is a baby?"

I shrug. "Sometimes…or because maybe I still remind you of Diane."

Now he looks really hurt. "I haven't thought of Diane in _years_. I see _you_ when I look at _you_ …definitely not Diane."

I'm trying my best not to cry, but my voice breaks when I try to push him away yet again for his own good. Maybe, maybe, I'm testing him…pushing him to see how far he is willing to go. I need absolutes at this stage in my life. I need to be sure. "Find a woman who can give you a family, Harm."

"Damn it, Mac!" He slams his fist down on the countertop and the spoon falls out of my bowl of soup and meets the countertop with a clang. "Why do you think that you know what is best for me? Why do you think you can dictate how I have a family… who I can love?"

"Because I want you to be sure! I don't want you to have regrets. You say all these things now, but what about ten or fifteen years from now? Can you still feel this way then even if you don't have a family? Can you?" I snap.

"Yes!"

I can see it in his eyes, I know he is telling the truth, but my anger and pent up emotions have reached their breaking point, and I let it all boil over. "You don't know what it feels like for me!" I yell at him as climb off the chair and stand to my feet.

"You don't know what it feels like to have a doctor tell you that you have less than a five percent chance of conceiving a child and having a successful pregnancy. Ever since we made our deal, I looked forward to the day we would have a baby – a little bit of me and a little bit of you! And to be honest, I hoped that we could do things the old fashioned way…that everything would work out and we'd have it all, Harm. We'd have a baby _and_ a family. And then it happened… the world slapped me in the face and reminded me that I don't deserve any of that."

"You're right," he agrees. "I do not know what it feels like to have a doctor tell me that. But," he raises his voice slightly and I can tell how hard he is trying to keep his anger in check. "I do know what feels is like to give up everything that was important to you to find the woman that you love and bring her home from some botched CIA operation and then and have her tell you that it will NEVER work out. And I'd say it probably hurts just as much."

It all comes back to Paraguay. The biggest mistake of my life thus far. The time I should have taken a different path…maybe if I did, we'd be at a better place right now.

"Then why didn't you fight me about it?!"

"Because _I_ can't make _your_ decisions for _you._ And I know that you went through a lot down there…whether or not you wanted to talk about it. I'm no stranger to PTSD…I know what it's like, believe me I do. But damn it, Mac, _this_ is _not_ like you – to just give up like this! I may have said "not yet" in Australia, but you said "never." You put the brakes on us. "

So he is mad at me for being mad that he didn't fight me but I get the feeling that he feels the same way about when I didn't fight him on the ferry? Oh, for the love of God why are we the most confusing people on the planet?

"That makes you sound like a hypocrite!" I shoot back.

"Maybe it does! But loves doesn't make sense, Mac. It's confusing and complicated and nothing is black and white…especially with us! But telling me never and then expecting me to fight you about it when I saw how you were with Webb makes you a hypocrite, too. Either way it was walking on eggshells with you. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn't. There are a lot of things I would do differently. I knew you were under a lot of stress and I just figured that we would have any major life discussions once you came to terms with it. Maybe…I should have helped you more…been a better friend to you, been more understanding and supportive of what you were going through instead of being a jealous jerk every time I thought of you being with Webb."

I absorb what he says. Maybe if I would have just admitted that I did have PTSD and reached out to get help sooner, we wouldn't be in this place right now. Hindsight is 20/20, I should have just tabled the discussion of "us" until we got back, like we had planned. But I didn't…I had to go and push him away because I was afraid he just wanted to be a hero, and didn't see me as a romantic partner.

Hell, who am I kidding? They say that actions are louder than words, and Harmon Rabb is certainly a man of action…I guess the fact he resigned his commission to make sure I came home should have told me everything I needed to know.

"Give up on what?" I ask for clarification of his previous statement. I listened to everything else he said, but my mind still keeps going back to that comment. "What do you think I am giving up on?"

"Well, yourself, for starters," he shoots back. "Me, being happy, enjoying life. All of it! Let's not fight _each other_ …let's fight for all of this _together._ "

This is the point where everything is boiling over, and I am grateful we established some rules of engagement. Otherwise, I am sure by this point one of us would have stormed out and we would be back to square one again.

When I don't say anything, his demeanor softens and he reaches for my hand, I don't flinch and I don't pull away. With my hand still in his, he walks around the island so he standing directly in front of me. "For the record, I do love you, Mac. I want that to perfectly clear." He delivers a kiss to the back of my hand. "Don't sell yourself short. You deserve to be happy. I want to be the person who can make you happy...if you'll let me." There is a pause before he adds, "And I guess it is a good time to admit something else to you…" he's almost embarrassed.

"What?" I ask, afraid and intrigued.

"The deal was never about just having a baby together, you understand that, right? The deal was more because…I didn't want to lose you – ever. So, with my logic, if we had a child to raise together, I would always be tied to you…and I know, from a legal perspective, the deal was… flawed…and would have been messy had we ended up with other people and still shared a child or transferred out of DC, but I always wanted to end up with _you_. Always. So I guess I didn't really think it through that much, and…"

I launch myself into his arms with a force that I am surprised I have after the accident. He catches me quickly in his embrace and leans against the countertop. "I do love you, too, Harm. So much. So, so much." I feather light kisses all across his face. "I want an eternity with you," I can't help the tears that spill out of eyes and on to his skin as I continue to shower him with kisses.

Before I know it, I am completely sobbing and taking comfort in the soothing motions his hands are making along my back. Who would have known that a car accident and a good old-fashioned hashing it out session would free me of my insecurities and finally let Harm in completely?

"Everything is okay," he whispers against my ear. "As long as we are together, everything will be okay."

"I'm sorry…that I … pushed you away…that I was stubborn and mean," I begin between sobs. "I'm sorry that I hurt you…I'm ready to let you in…to share a life with you." I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and never want to let go. "Whatever happens, wherever life takes us, I can get through it as long as it is with you. Together."

He pulls away slightly to look into my eyes, and I feel whole and complete. Any doubt I had about being an "us" fades away. Harm made his intentions clear today, and I guess that is all I was looking for all along - that and possibly releasing all the bottled up emotions of Paraguay too.

"Harm?" I question softly after he didn't say anything in the entire two minutes and 43 seconds he spent staring in my eyes.

"I want to kiss you, but I don't want to hurt you." He fingers gently brush the bruise on my face.

"I'd be more hurt if you _didn't_ kiss me."

He smiles and leans forward to kiss me. It's gentle and slow, but filled with passion and love and promise.

It assures me that we will be okay… we have each other and that is all that matters.

* * *

Epilogue to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Better Together – Epilogue**

* * *

"Harm! Will you stop?" I playfully scold as I swat his hand away from the tray of sugar cookies sitting on the kitchen counter. "Those are for the kids! And," I clarify, "they are for after dinner. It's only 0623, Harm. Who would have thought _you'd_ be eating _sugar cookies_ at this hour? Of all the people," I mutter as I pick up the tray and move it away.

I place it inside the cupboard, out of sight, out of mind.

He chuckles. "I can't help it, Mac. I'm beginning to share in your eating habits. Besides, who would have thought _you'd_ be this strict about eating cookies anyways?"

"Harmon Rabb, married life as made _you_ a pushover!"

"It has not!" He defends himself. "It has just brought out certain…characteristics…that were there all along…they just didn't come to the surface until married life. Therefore, I can't possibly be considered a pushover."

I bite my tongue, trying not to laugh. That makes as much sense as a square tennis ball. "If you say so, Sailor." There's a little smear of icing on the corner of his mouth and I lean forward to kiss it away. "Mmm. Delicious."

"Me or the icing?" He asks, an eyebrow arched.

"The icing," I tease with a smile.

Before I can say anything else, I hear the pitter-patter of little feet running across the hardwood floor and down the stairs.

"No running inside!" I remind them, and all three of them quickly come to attention in front of me.

"Sorry!" they apologize in unison.

"We just wanted to see if Santa found us here."

"Oh, I think he sure did," Harm offers. "Why don't you take a look and see, huh?"

There's a chorus of oohs and aahs.

"Can we open them now? Please, oh, please, oh please?"

"Not yet, we have to wait for your parents to wake up so they can watch you open them, too," I say it because sometimes I think Harm would agree to anything the kids ask him.

"Okay, Grandma. I _guess_ we can wait."

"Well, Grandpa got up extra early today to make his famous French toast for you guys, so why don't we eat breakfast? I'm sure your parents will be up by the time we are done eating."

Connor and Jonah, the twins, pile into the kitchen and head for the table. They wait as patiently as they can for Harm to serve them their breakfast. They are eight-years old and have the appetite of a Marine.

I secure three year old Emma into her booster seat and blow raspberries on her cheek before I begin to cut up her breakfast into bitesize pieces. She does not have the appetite of her older cousins and is definitely a "grazer" - she only likes to eat a few bites here and there.

Harm and I sure came along way from my car accident on that fateful Christmas Eve thirty years ago. We were married shortly after- what's the point in dating anyway when you know each other as well as Harm and I did? Both of us remained in the military until we each reached our twenty years, and then when we got out, we moved to Pennsylvania to take care of the farm after Grams passed away. Harm and I took the state bar exam, too. Harm joined the prosecutor's office, and I joined a family law practice part time and taught a few classes at the nearby law school in Pittsburgh.

We accomplished a lot together, but the one thing we weren't able to do was have a biological family together. One year into our marriage, and the endometriosis progressed so much that I was almost constantly in pain – there was no choice but to have a complete hysterectomy. I was nervous about the operation at the time, but not my future. Harm was always there for me and I knew that with him on my team, I could face not having biological children – because he was right. It didn't matter how it happened as long as it happened together.

Just about eight months after my operation, we got a call from the social worker. She was intrigued with our file, and our experiences with both Mattie and Chloe. She told us about a set of twins she had been trying to find a permanent home for. They were older now, six years old, and no one wanted to adopt two older children…everyone wanted to adopt babies, so they were constantly floating from foster home to foster home. She told me they were "crack babies" when they were born, several weeks premature. Their father overdosed before their birth and they became wards of the state because their mother, a teenage runaway, couldn't care for them. They also tested positive for the drug in their system at the time of their birth. We later learned that their birthmother overdosed herself before they were even six months old. The social worker wanted to keep the children together, and thought maybe Harm and I would be the perfect fit.

And we were the perfect fit. For being born as they were, Allison and Jeffery were not the type to just give up and that was something the four of us had in common from the beginning. They were six- year old children who wanted a permanent home, a family, someone to love them and support them and care for them, and they had a hard time finding that because they were born to a drug addicted mother and spent so long in foster care that no one wanted them because they were "too old." Harm and I knew that we would do anything in our power to help them…anything.

I love our kids so much that I don't think I could have loved them anymore even if I did give birth to them. Harm was right; we didn't have to have biological children, to be a family…biological just means biology. A family is made up of love and that can happen regardless of genetics. So what if they don't have my looks and his brains, or his looks and my brains…they are still _our_ children. And to be honest – Trish and I were secretly thrilled with the fact that neither one of them wanted to fly. I don't know how many Rabb aviators I can handle in my life.

I look up and I see Jeffery and his wife descending down the stairs with Allison and her husband following close behind, then I look at my grandchildren and smile.

With all the hustle and bustle of the kids squealing in delight greeting their parents, I glance across the kitchen and make eye contact with my husband. "I love you," I mouth to him followed by a wink.

He smiles back as he crosses the kitchen and stands behind me so he can put his hands on my shoulders. "I love you, too," he whispers against my ear with a gentle squeeze to my shoulders.

I squeeze his hand as it rests on my shoulder. "We did well together."

"That we did, Mac. That we did," he agrees.

We're the best team I've ever been on. I'm glad we were able to let go of the things that didn't matter, but hold on to the things that did – most importantly – each other.

We got our happily ever after, that is for sure, and I will be grateful for that every day.

You don't always have to do everything alone; it is okay to let people in – sometimes, I wonder why I ever doubted Harm and I could be together.

After all, we are better together – always have been and always will be.

* * *

End.


End file.
